


It Has To Be Lived

by clare009



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, river/doctor fluffathon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-02
Updated: 2013-06-02
Packaged: 2017-12-13 17:30:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/826912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clare009/pseuds/clare009
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What happens when your marriage is a wibbly wobbly ball of timey wimey stuff? Sometimes you get a sneak preview of what's to come.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It Has To Be Lived

**Author's Note:**

  * For [storiesbyreese](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=storiesbyreese).



> Written for the 2013 River/Doctor Fluffathon on Tumblr: http://rdficathon.tumblr.com. Thanks to EasyThereTyger and Areyoumarriedriver for the beta/feedback.

 

He watches her from across the console knowing that she isn't paying him any attention. No, River Song is wrapped up in flying the TARDIS.

 

The Doctor has never seen anyone so single-minded in their concentration. His mouth twitches as he catalogues her expression. Her eyes focus on the display and her bottom lip catches between her teeth. Her hands fly over the controls as she dances this way and that. She twirls around him as if he isn't even there.

 

Which is why her sudden question surprises him.

 

"Are you a father, Doctor?"

 

He blinks and stutters.  

 

River slides a sideways glance at him and the corner of her mouth curls up into a smile. She pushes the lever into its resting position, and while the TARDIS shudders to a halt, she turns to face him, the question still dancing in her eyes.

 

"Why do you ask?" he says, tugging at his collar. She is so young, this version of her, and he is still such a mystery to her. She'd barely been locked up in Stormcage for half a dozen years. How could he explain all of their history?

 

He smiles and tells her something she told him years ago, when he was so young. "It has to be lived."

 

***

 

He rushes towards the doors as the TARDIS lands, barely able to keep his feet, and just as he opens the door, a hand latches onto his lapel and he is dragged through into the the waiting arms of River Song.

 

She kisses him fiercely. He's getting used to it, all this kissing business. Quite likes it, actually, the way her tongue slides into his mouth and her hands slip under his jacket. She's hot, fiery hot, like a bright burning ember in his arms. He thinks he's starting to master the art of kissing her back, fancies himself a bit of an expert at kissing River, except she's always one step ahead of him, somehow, so when he drops his hand to the curve of her arse for the first time, the aggressive growl in the back of her throat surprises him.

 

He pulls back with a gasp, and finally, finally, their surroundings register in his peripheral vision. Opulence. Gold. Silk. Red.

 

"River... where are we?"

 

She smirks and her fingers are making quick work of the buttons and zip of his trousers. "The Forbidden City. This is the Emperor's private bedchamber. I thought you'd approve."

 

He frowns because she's pulling his trousers down and he doesn't want to ask why, because he knows why, it's just that they've never... not before... at least not from his perspective, but she hasn't noticed yet... "Which Emperor?" he manages to squeak out.

 

"Does it matter, Sweetie?" She cups him through his underpants and he sucks in a breath. This is different. It's been so long, not since... but that doesn't matter, because River's clever fingers are doing things to him, and it shouldn't surprise him that his body, this body, likes it. "The guards could hear something and walk in any second you know. Let's make this quick, shall we?"

 

His eyes go wide as she kneels in front of him. He's pressed up against the TARDIS doors, the cool, smooth wood against his back keeps him from falling as River finally tugs his underpants down with one hand, and encircles him with another. "Wait, what? No... what are you doing? River!" He tips his head back and groans.

 

"Do you want me to stop?" Her voice is low, teasing.

 

"Yes! No... Please?"

 

"Please stop?"

 

He can't think, can't talk, can't process anything beyond how hot her hand is against his cool skin, and how it feels like he's going to burn. He grinds out a strangled 'no'. He wants to burn.

 

River licks her lips and then she leans forward and takes him into her mouth. Her tongue slides along his shaft creating friction to mingle with the wet and hot that surrounds him. He grips the sides of the TARDIS, partly to keep himself upright, and partly to ground himself in reality. As her head bobs backwards and forwards, he feels himself losing his grip. Finally, he relents and buries his fingers into her hair.

 

Pressure and pleasure and pain build up at the base of his spine. She's done this before. More specifically, she's done this before to him, because she knows exactly what he needs to reach his peak, and it's going to end soon, but he doesn't want it to, not like this, so with a massive amount of willpower, he gently pushes her away.

 

River pouts at him. "Don't be a spoilsport, Doctor."

 

As he tries to regulate his breathing, he spots the elaborate bed, couldn't miss it, really. It's massive and draped all in reds and golds and purples. Gaudy, if you ask him, but certainly memorable. He stabs a finger towards it as he hops out of the trousers tangled around his legs in as dignified a fashion as he can manage.

 

"Oh, I see," says River, always quick on the uptake. She's also quick to shimmy out of her clothes. "Hurry, though. The Son of Heaven should be returning from his morning excursion any time now."

 

His jacket, tie and shirt follow the rest of their clothes as they make their way towards the bed. River pushes him down with a grin, and he's so taken with the curves of her body, that he hardly notices the prophylactic she brandishes. But then she starts to roll the rubber sheath onto his twitching penis, and he flinches.

 

He puts out a hand to stop her. "What are you doing?"

 

River laughs at the expression on his face. "You of all people should know how time travel messes with contraception. This is the only way."

 

"Don't be ridiculous. We're not compatible like that," he waves a hand between them, "I don't need that thing."

 

She laughs again. "Oh Doctor. That's what you said the last time you..." She winks. "Nevermind. Spoilers." She's still laughing as she swings a leg over him, and it's so easy how she sinks down on top of him. It makes him forget what she might have let slip. Almost.

 

***

 

He meets Sarah first, even though she's the second.

 

He rings the doorbell to the Pond residence. He still calls it that though it's only River who lives there now, has lived there, on and off, for a long time. This time, he's surprised when a child opens the door and stares at him with big eyes. She looks so much like Ameila Pond that he spins to look behind him and checks the date on his watch a couple of times. But this girl is much younger than he ever remembers Amelia being, and her eyes are green.

 

"Oh. It's only you," she says and twirls around to head back into the house. Before he can follow the girl, she's vanished.

 

He stands in the corridor. "Hello?"

 

"I'm in the kitchen, Sweetie?" He hears River call. "Come on through--I'm trying to bake."

 

"You? Bake?" He scoffs even as he keeps an eye out for the child. "What for and why?"

 

"Because I promised Sarah brownies for her birthday and not just the shop bought variety, good old-fashioned home made ones."

 

He peeks into the kitchen and spots the hair first. River has her back to him as she's mixing a concoction in a big silver bowl with a wooden spoon. "And how is this experiment faring?"

 

"Well, the first batch were hard as rocks, and the second batch was all goo in the middle. But I think I've got it right this time."

 

Leaning against the doorframe, he crosses his arms and ignores the goose pimples pricking the back of his neck at the thought of the girl. "Have you ever thought about following a recipe?"

 

She snorts. "Whatever for? It's basic chemistry. I mastered that when I was five." River spreads the chocolate mixture into a pan and pops it into the oven. "There. We'll give it thirty-two minutes, I think."

 

She whips off the oven mitts and smooths her hands down the front of her apron before she turns to him and smiles. And he's completely and utterly stunned at how it suits her, the smudge of flour on her cheek, the tousled hair, the look of domestic contentment. "You're happy," he says before he can keep the words from spilling out.

 

River walks up to him and kisses his cheek. "Of course I am. And you're a day early. That was very clever of you."

 

Her warmth presses up against him, and even though he yearns to melt into her, he holds himself still. He knows he's on thin ground. "A day early... for Sarah's birthday. Of course," he says carefully. And he thinks the little girl must be Sarah, and it must be her birthday, but he can't be sure specifically. "Um. Good."

 

River frowns. "She's cross with you, you know."

 

Scratching the back of his neck, he says, "I'm afraid I don't know why."

 

"No, you wouldn't. Because you haven't done it yet." With a sigh, River smooths her fingers over his bowtie and across the shoulder of his coat. He rather likes this one, it's purple. "Sometimes you blunder in on a spoiler so large it's impossible to keep it under wraps."

 

"Sarah..."

 

"Your daughter."

 

"Ah." There's a lump in his throat and he doesn't quite know what to feel. It doesn't seem real, not yet.

 

"Now, I know you're still processing this, and you're asking yourself how it's even possible, but please, trust me, Doctor, Sarah is your daughter, and you were supposed to be here for her birthday, you promised, and you can't break another promise, do you understand?"

 

He looks at River as her hand cups his face. Her voice is low, and though she doesn't beg, he can see in her eyes how important this is. "How... how old is she?"

 

"She's turning five."

 

He nods. "Five?" A smile catches at the corners of his mouth. "Well, that's a very special age. Very special indeed. I wouldn't miss it for anything."

 

The Doctor creeps upstairs to find the girl. His daughter.

 

***

 

He gets her call by telephone, not via some ancient graffiti or space artifact, or even his psychic paper--it's this that tells him how deadly serious she is when she says, 'Doctor, I need you to come. Hurry.'

 

As soon as he leaves the TARDIS, he comes under fire. And, of course, the HADS are acting up, and the TARDIS leaves him without cover. He dashes for the nearest bulkhead and pulls out his sonic, much good that would do him against lasers.

 

The hostile fire ceases, and he draws in several breaths and does a quick scan of the environment. He's inside the empty hold of a spaceship and he can see wall mounted drones with biomechanical eyes; the source of the laser fire. He's lucky, then, because the sonic can help him. He shuts down the drones with a few bursts of energy, and then searches the metal walls, tracing his fingers along the cool panels, until he finds what he's looking for: the terminal accessing the onboard computer that comes standard with most intergalactic vessels.

 

The Doctor programs the sonic to infiltrate the system, and within seconds, he's found River.

 

She's being held in the brig. Of course.

 

"You bad girl," he says to the air around him. "What have you done this time?"

 

It shouldn't excite him as much as it does, but there's a current of electricity that crackles through his veins. His hearts are thumping, and he's practically bouncing on his toes. Time to rescue his wife.

 

Everything goes according to plan until he gets caught by one of the crew and thrown into a cell next to the one occupied by River.

 

In the dim light he can see her form hunched over against the wall as he's dragged into his cell. Her head jerks up and she licks her cracked lips, but a light returns to her eyes as she recognizes him. Wisely, she says nothing as their captors toss him like a ragdoll into the corner.

One of the brutish men guffaws as he kicks him in the side--if they can be called men with their pig-like snouts and three-fingered hands.

 

He winces as the guards leave with his sonic, code-locking the brig. The Doctor crawls over to the edge of his cell, clutching his bruised ribs.

 

"River, are you alright? Have they hurt you?"

 

"They only think they have," she says. He can see a gash along one arm. It's crusted over. She's been here a while. "I'm stronger than I look."

 

"Okay. Good."

 

"There's one small problem..." She shifts from her position, and now he can finally see what she's been hiding. He can't miss it, really.

 

"Either you're smuggling a giant beach ball or you're--"

 

"Pregnant, yes, you're so good at pointing out the obvious. That's not the problem. The problem is that I won't be pregnant for much longer." And then her face contorts and she doubles over. She turns to brace against the wall, takes a few shallow breaths, then breathes deeply through her nose and out her mouth for several moments. Finally she blinks and turns back to him. "I've been in labour for several hours, locked up in this bloody cell, waiting for you, I might add. I've been trying to delay the process, but each contraction is just a little more intense than the last, I can't put it off too much longer."

 

He feels a wave of nausea pass over him of the 'this can't be happening' variety. But it is. And he needs to get a hold of himself. "Okay. Right. Okay. Let's catalogue everything. You're pregnant. You're going to have a baby. We've been locked up in the brig of a ship full of thugs--"

 

"Smugglers." River points out.

 

"Right, smugglers, and I don't have my sonic, and the TARDIS has vanished on me."

 

"What? Why?"

"Look, it's the HADS. They haven't been right ever since--"

 

"Nevermind. She won't have gone far. She knows I need her help." River nods. "And as for your sonic, would this help?" She produces her own sonic and waves it at him. It's the same one. The one she had all those many years ago in the Library. He knew it was waiting in a drawer for him to give it to her, but he'd never... "Yeah, I know, you were upgrading this one, and I shouldn't have borrowed it without your permission, but," she shrugs, "I thought it would come in handy."

 

He grins. "River Song, I could bloody kiss you."

 

"Save that for after you get us out of this mess."

 

"Right, of course." His eyes flick over her enlarged stomach and he can't help staring. "Have I known about... you know... before?"

 

She rolls her eyes. "Don't tell me I'm stuck with a younger version of you. I'm going to have to have a word with her. She's supposed to reroute those calls. Please tell me I'm not going to have to pull out my diary?"

 

"No, no. I'm good. I think I've got the cliff notes, anyway." He eyes her stomach again.

 

"Yes, sweetie, take a good look. This is all your fault, you know." He can't help the smirk, and she rolls her eyes again. "I did wonder why you were so matter-of-fact when I first told you. It's because you already bloody knew. Ugh." She doubles over again and has to support herself against the wall as she breathes through another contraction.

 

"Three minutes and thirty-two seconds." He says once she's through to the other side. "Has your water broken?"

 

"Not yet," she says.

 

"Well, that's something, at least. Give me the sonic." She hands it to him through the bars and he starts to work with the sonic on the door of his cell.

 

"I tried that already," River says.

 

He continues to point and click and tries as many different combinations as he can think of. "There's some sort of energy field. I can't deactivate it."

 

"I could have told you that."

 

He scans high and low, now, searching for the edges of the field. All he needs is one tiny crack. There is none. He can hear his wife panting again, and this time she lets out a small groan. Her pain intensity is getting worse.

 

The tone of the sonic changes when he reaches the junction between their cells. "Ah ha!"

 

"You've found a weak spot?"

 

"Nope. But the field doesn't encase each cell, rather the whole block, so I can do this--" The Doctor changes the settings and aims the sonic at the bars between the two cells. The energy corrodes the metal until there is a gaping hole big enough to step through.

 

With a grin, he holds out his arms for River. She steps into them with a sigh, and he hugs her close. It's awkward, with her shape, but feeling her relax against him, knowing she trusts him completely, even in this, sends a flood of emotion through him. He kisses the top of her head and holds her tightly for a moment.

 

She stiffens. Her fingers dig into his back. With her forehead pressed against his shoulder, she breathes through her pain.

 

"What do you need me to do?"

 

"Find us a way out of here before--" She doubles over and he catches her. He lets her slide to her knees as she grips his arms to the point of pain. A bubble of fear rises in his throat at how white her face is.

 

"Breathe," he says, for lack of anything else.

 

"I am breathing," River shoots back through clenched teeth.

 

"Relax your muscles. Don't fight it. The pain will be worse if you do."

 

Her look could reduce a small army to drooling, jibbering fools. He wisely shuts his mouth, and instead, rubs gentle circles over her back.

 

River turns her focus inwards. He marvels at the concentration on her face as she regains control over the pain that engulfs her. When it finally subsides, she looks him in the eye. "Sweetie. He is not going to wait any more. The pressure is too much." The Doctor shoots a look down to where River cradles her stomach. "I am not, I repeat, not going to have a baby in a prison cell. Get us out of here. Now."

 

He swallows and nods, and gets to work. He'll find a way. He always does.

 

River's water breaks as they run down a corridor with a parcel of thugs chasing them. Laser fire singes around them, but at least he's located the TARDIS--River was right, she hadn't gone far. By the time they push through the doors of the blue box, he's carrying his wife. He doesn't know where the med bay is in the new layout, and he doesn't have time to consult the schematics, so he sets her down on a chair in the console room and helps her out of her clothes.

 

There are blankets and towels in one of the storage holes under the console. He yanks them out in his panic and sends half of them flying before he can grab what he needs to make River comfortable.

 

She shakes her head as he tries to coax her down from the chair and onto the nest of blankets. Sweat rolls down her face and she lets out a long groan. Every inch of her shakes. When she can finally talk again, she says, "Not here. Get me to the pool."

 

"River, it's a baby, not a fish. You can't--"

 

"The pool."

 

He nods. He tries to hoist her up into his arms again, but she won't have any of it. Cradling her stomach, she allows him to half carry, half drag her through the TARDIS. Somehow, the pool's been rerouted right next to the console room so they don't have far to go.

 

River slips into the water with a sigh. Her curls fan out around her face, floating on the surface as she leans back against the step she's resting on. "I'm going to push with the next contraction. You'd better get in position."

 

Position? What position? He can hardly think with the cocktail of adrenaline and panic spiking through him. Has he done this before? He doesn't think so. He would have remembered, surely?

 

He steps down into the tepid water, not noticing that he's still fully clothed. He only has the presence of mind to remove his jacket at the last minute before he wades to his wife. He rolls up his sleeves and crouches down in the water with his hands out.

 

River says, "It's a baby, not a bloody ball." He drops his hands. Her eyes widen and she draws in a breath. "Here it comes. Help me balance."

 

Impossibly, it seems, using him for balance, she squats in the water. She grunts loudly as she bears down. "One, two, three..." he counts, because it seems to be the logical thing to do, even though nothing about this is logical. Her face contorts towards the end, and she cries out before almost toppling over in the water. He moves to steady her, braces her against his chest. "I've got you, it's okay," he croons. "You're amazing. Incredible. River. I've never seen anything like it."

 

She doesn't talk. She's too focused, turned inward now, every ounce of strength, every thought, all emotion directed toward the process she is going through.

 

He keeps her balanced as she pushes into the next contraction. And the next, and the next. It feels like they've been in the water for hours, but he knows it's barely been a fraction of the time. Each time he checks between her legs. When he sees the head start to crown, a wave of excitement washes through him. "River, he's coming, you're doing it. You're doing it."

 

She doesn't get any rest between pushing, now. She's almost there. Each time she bears down, he sees more and more of the pale round head. Her grunt turns into a strangled shout and then the head is through. He reaches down to touch it, but she's pushing again, and it all happens so fast, but in a gush of blood and water,  the whole baby slithers out, free. The Doctor catches his child and brings it to the surface. He watches the tiny face screw shut and gasp his first breath. He takes another and another, and then lets out a diminutive cry, like a cat.

 

The sound is seared onto his hearts.

 

"Yes, don't panic. She's right here," he says. He looks across at his wife, her eyes are wide in her pale face. He puts the tiny wrinkled person into her waiting arms. "Your son, River Song."

 

"And yours," she whispers. There is awe in her voice. "How is it possible?"

 

As he looks at mother and child, he can't even begin to understand it. "I have a son," he says.

 

***

 

His youngest child, true to her contrary nature, shows up in the TARDIS almost fully grown before she is even born.

 

"You can't do this, I won't let you."

 

He looks up to see the dark-haired, dark-skinned girl standing in front of him with hands on her hips. "I'm sorry," he says. She looks familiar, but he can't place her.

 

"Get up. Stop feeling sorry for yourself. Do something useful."

 

"Who are you? How did you get in here?" His voice is raw. He doesn't know how long he's been sitting on the steps of the console room.

 

The girl glares at him. "You have to go to her."

 

She's talking about River Song, of course. His knowledge is instinctive. "I can't. She's gone."

 

"You can."

 

Her words stir the embers of some emotion in him. He didn't think he had any left. He rises from his seat and stalks towards her, face passive, but the full weight of his anger is rolling up behind him. "It will break time," he bites out the words.

 

The girl simply snorts at him. "It will break time if you don't."

 

"Who are you?"

 

She lets out a sigh and flips her braids out of her face. "Amelia Song."

 

"How did you get that name?"

 

"You gave it to me. Or you will." She spins on her heel and reaches for the console, begins to flip levers. The TARDIS hums in ecstasy.

 

He reaches her in seconds. "Stop. Wait. What are you doing? You can't--" The way she moves, the way she pilots as she sends his ship into the vortex, it reminds him of her. It reminds him so much, that an ache blooms between his hearts. "Tell me who you are?"

 

After she spins the dial that sets their course, she turns to him. Her eyes are damp and she bites her lip. "Oh Dad," she says, her tone a mixture of exasperation and affection. Then she wraps her arms around his middle and presses her face into his waistcoat and holds him tight.

 

"I don't understand," he says as he raises his hand to pat the top of her head.

 

"I regenerated when I was eleven. Thought I could fly. Off a ten story building. Boy was mum mad at me that day."

 

He shakes his head, trying to ignore the lump in his throat. "You're not my daughter. You can't be." He can't bring himself to tell her that he only has one daughter, and her mother... is gone. She died. He sent her to her death. He wants to shake her off and make her understand that he had no choice--he had to preserve the timeline, otherwise neither of his children, not his son, nor his daughter, would have been born. But the girl who is hugging him as if she belongs to him--she can't be possible.

 

She loosens her grip and looks up at him. "You should go to her. She needs you."

 

"I don't know how." And it's the most honest thing he's ever said. He doesn't know how to save his wife. He's thought of all the possibilities, run the computations over and over, and there are so many ways he could have her back, but not properly. Not back as herself. "The other option... to try and communicate with her in the Library data core..." He shakes his head. "I can't."

 

"You don't need to," she says as she steps back with her hands on her hips.

 

The way she stands... she's like River. The tilt of her jaw, the challenge in her expression--she's very much like River. But her mind, or at least what he can sense of it, is like a mirror image of his own. He cocks his head to the side as he considers her. His thoughts swirl around the problem she presents until it all settles neatly into one magnificent pattern. "When's your birthday?" he says.

 

She chuckles and shakes her head. Amelia Song, his third child, pulls the TARDIS lever back to resting position and points to the doors. "She's waiting for you."

 

He's running for the doors before she finishes her sentence. As he reaches them, he spins and stops. "What about you?"

 

She holds up her wrist to show him the vortex manipulator and grins. "Gotta get this back before mum finds I've nicked it from her."

 

"Will I see you again soon? I mean not, you know, the baby version of you."

 

Her head shake gives him a surprising stab of disappointment amidst his current euphoria. "You need to take the linear path for a while, Dad. She deserves it. And so do you. But I'll see you very soon."

 

"Would you... will you travel with me? When the time comes? I think I'd like that." Arthur and Sarah had never shown much interest. They had their own lives, now, their own families. He'd visit from time to time, of course, but...

 

She smiles. "Yeah. I think I'd like that, too."

 

Their eyes meet in understanding, and he nods. He turns to the doors as she begins to key into the manipulator, and he doesn't even hear the crackle of time energy over the roaring in his ears as he opens the TARDIS doors. He's about to see his wife again.

 

***

 

She doesn't understand how it was possible, but it's been a week and three days since she returned, and her time as a cipher in the Library data core is just a fading memory. It's not a bad memory--she had company there, and every single book ever written to keep her occupied--but she had no sense of time in a place like that, and for someone who was conceived in the vortex, it was like amputating a limb.

 

But River Song has left the Library, and time once more flows around her.

 

She had returned to her parent's house, of course. She'd lived in that house far longer than they ever had, had raised her precious family there, but she still can't refer to it as her own. Right now it is a sanctuary. She needs time to heal, to feel normal again. Time before she can face her husband again.

 

River digs her hands into the cool dirt of the flowerbed. She likes to garden at night, when the moon hangs in the sky, and the pinpricks of the stars remind her there is a universe beyond the ground she works in. It's a humid summer's night, and the little rectangle of a garden smells like loam and lilacs. She smiles at the chirp of the crickets and the sound of the next door neighbour's telly. It's all so normal. Since when did she ever feel like normal was a good thing?

 

The sound of the TARDIS engines grind through the air. River looks up, her hearts pounding. How did he know? She was supposed to be the one to seek him out, not the other way around. She rises up from her knees as the blue box materialises in front of her. By the time the box is solid, she has dusted the dirt from her sweatpants, and convinced herself he will be a younger doctor--younger than the one who told her goodbye at the Singing Towers.

 

When the doors open and he steps out, the look on his face leaves her in no doubt that he's not.

 

He hasn't changed at all since she saw him last, except there's a heaviness to his eyes that talk of years. She doesn't want to ask him how long it's been for him. Instead, she steps towards him and licks her lips.

 

"River... how?" His fingers slide along her jaw as if to confirm she is real.

 

"Ask our children someday."

 

"They did what I thought was impossible."

 

"Only almost impossible, my love."

 

He curls his fingers around the nape of her neck and drags her into his embrace. As soon as his arms wrap around her, she feels a shift in the ground beneath her feet. Finally, everything slides into place, and she is home.

 

They hold each other for a long time, standing in her parent's garden under the starry night. And when that is not enough, they go inside with hands clasped, up the stairs to her bedroom. The floor seems like a mile away when he kisses her.

 

Over the years, he's learned from the best, he knows how to run his tongue across the seam of her mouth, how to splay his hand over the small of her back and hold her close, and how to nip with his teeth and slant his lips across hers. They fall together onto her bed from a great height. She's drunk with the intensity of the feelings he stirs up inside her.

 

The Doctor strips her sweatpants down, dragging her knickers with, and she kicks them off. He rucks her vest up to expose her breasts, then dips his head down to suck one of her nipples into his mouth. River arches into him, the groan in her throat low and needy. He already knows what she needs, because he wastes no time in smoothing his hand over the curls between her legs, his clever fingers seeking, finding, pressing down on her clit.

 

She needs him to make her feel alive once more. Her cries get more and more frantic as he continues to mouth at her breast, while his busy hand toys with her clit. Her hips thrust up in frustration, because it's not enough. She needs to feel grounded, rooted, anchored by him in a way she never could in the Library.

 

But he knows, of course, because he releases her just for a moment while he struggles with his own clothes. She helps where she can, even though her hands are clumsy with tension. They managed to get his trousers off, and the buttons of his shirt undone. She stops him when he reaches for the bowtie. Then he twists and drags her on top of him. He's already hard.  River wraps her fingers around him for a moment and grins at his look of panic--he'll never disguise that look from her, but she knows it's only because he gives himself so completely to her in this.

 

With a bit of adjustment, she finds the right position and pushes down. He slides into her, filling her, and she groans at the intimate contact.

 

They quickly reach a rhythm that becomes frantic. It doesn't take her long to climb to her peak, and when he reaches forward and takes her nipple into her mouth once more, the scrape of his teeth against the sensitive skin sends her careening over the top.

 

She takes a moment to gasp for breath, then starts to undulate her hips in a way she knows drives him mad. He's not that far off, she can tell by the glistening sweat on his forehead, and his eyes focused entirely on her. She reaches behind to stroke his balls and feels him stiffen, then jerk inside her as he let's out a cry.

 

Finally she's able to collapse on top of him.

 

"Welcome home," he whispers to her.

 

River grins as she nestles her head into the crook of his neck. "You've probably knocked me up again."

 

"I expect so," he says and laughs. "Spoilers."

 


End file.
